


Terrified

by applecameron



Category: Inception (2010)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-12
Updated: 2016-01-12
Packaged: 2018-05-13 11:32:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 718
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5706112
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/applecameron/pseuds/applecameron
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Arthur's afraid to love.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Terrified

"Eames, are you attracted to me?" 

This is not the conversation Eames was anticipating when Arthur showed up at his hotel room, with something like sorrow under his normally placid features. Not that he was anticipating any particular conversation at all, but the one he anticipated least was one about their attraction for each other or lack thereof. Very like the man, to just ask outright, bold and confident while simultaneously clueless enough that he needed to check in the first place, after all the flirting Eames has aimed his way for so very long.

Arthur is frowning when he asks, but it's a concentration-frown, not an angry-frown. So, he keeps his answer short. "Very." Smiles.

For the record, all Eames did was open the door and allow Arthur in. It was two days after their seemingly successful inception, and they had had a very late lunch together yesterday, a debriefing really. Arthur was suitably impressed when Eames told him about the third level, and he had been equally impressed in turn hearing about Arthur's kick in zero gravity. The thing about Arthur was that Eames wasn't just attracted to him, he liked him. They could talk about anything, and did, at a similarly late lunch today.

"I hope you're braver than I am, then." Arthur's got his coat on, like he's ready to rabbit.

Eames knows a cue when he hears one. He rises, puts his hands on Arthur's upper arms, feeling his hands curl along Eames' elbows in answer, in invitation, and kisses him softly, their lips parting immediately. Under his hands, under his lips, Arthur is shaking.

It sounds like a non sequitor, but they've known each other a long time, Eames knows it's not. Knows it's the thing Arthur came to say to him: "Mal used to kiss me in dreams."

"She kissed you topside, too." Eames had seen her kiss Arthur's cheek, forehead, hands, any number of times. The love between them was so self-evident, so secure, like Mal saw Arthur as an extension of herself, the tactical adjunct to her own genius. And she was a genius, a powerhouse of dreamshare, for all her crumbling into madness by the end. 

"I miss it."

"Of course you do." Eames risks holding the man's head in his hands, tilting it down and lifting himself up to deliver a gentle buss to his forehead.

"Does it make you feel good when you kiss me?" Arthur asks their shoes.

Eames draws back. "Doesn't it feel good to you?" He can't get Arthur to raise his gaze.

"It makes me feel terrified."

Eames presses them together, so Arthur doesn't have to make eye contact. They're of a height, chins fitting easily on each other's shoulders, chests meeting. 

Arthur takes a step backwards. Eames follows, until they've danced back to the wall, the hotel door.

"I don't know if I can do this." Arthur wraps his hands around Eames' shoulders.

"You can. I'll be with you."

"I can't lose someone else like that." He confesses. "It's too big." His hands are tight now. "It's too much. If we - if I lost you, too. God, I think it would be ten times worse."

Eames rubs his nose along the line of Arthur's neck and breathes deep. Wraps his hands around Arthur's wrists and pushes them down, against the wall. Not threateningly. Just enough.

The shaking eases. "If I run, you have to follow," Arthur whispers to his ear. "I'm only running because I'm scared. Promise me."

Eames kisses his neck, his hairline, his earlobe, lifting him away from the wall enough to draw one arm around Arthur's waist, still holding his wrist. "I won't let you get out that door, darling. I will chase you to the ends of the earth. I promise."

"I am so, so scared, Eames." This nakedness, this trust, in the face of an overwhelming fear and grief, this is so, so very Arthur, so brave and loyal to the things and people he loves, so honest and true, so _committed_. How could he ever let this man go, ever?

Eames tugs his other wrist up to rest it over both their heads. Arthur's bent in his arms, now, body taut against his. "I won't let you go."

He seals the promise with a kiss.


End file.
